


Sticking their Eye in Everything

by orphan_account



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Thematic Thursday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-05 02:52:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11004450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Entry for /ztg/ Thematic Thursday #23; Private Detective / Freelance InvestigatorJudy Hopps is her very own private detective in the big city of Zootopia. Thus far however, it hasn't been all what she though it'd crack up to be, until a desperate otter comes seeking help.May be continued into a longer story.





	Sticking their Eye in Everything

The office was nothing too fancy, but it was by no means shabby either. The best you could call it was quaint. It was on the third floor of Clawetz apartments: a block of flats in a part of town a little bit on the rundown side. Its beige wallpaper, –covered in a soft and gentle paw patterning –the sun that bled into the room through the shuttered blinds and the coffee smell that hung in the air gave it a warm, almost homey feeling.

Contrasting this was the papers strewn across the desk in the centre of the room, the laptop precariously stacked atop a pile of binders, the eaten pizza and half eaten box of Siamese food that filled the office with the pungent smell of chilli dim sums and burnt dough, clashing with the tranquillity of the coffee. 

A sense of boredom resided over the rabbit who laid torpidly in her office chair, her ears drooped low and bathing in the sun. As the minute hand of the office’s clock ticked on by slowly and loudly, Judy found her eyes wandering over to the family portraits that hung on the wall by poorly hammered in nails. 

To the left of the office door was one of Bonnie and Stu, and another of Judy hugging good old dad after a hard day of farm work. To the right was one with her and Bonnie in the kitchen, furiously cooking up a cake for Judy’s eighteenth. Just below it was a long portrait of the whole family, the picture of her 275 brothers and sisters stretching from one end of the wall to the doorframe. 

The pictures gave her a sense of homesickness –it’d been so long since she moved away from the tiny carrot-choked Podunk to the big, industrious skyline of the city. 

She moved away only a couple of years ago –maybe five or six –but it felt like decades. Judy could remember the letter she had gotten in their farm’s rusty old mailbox, how her application to the ZPD had been ‘regretfully declined’, and the devastation she felt. It was like someone had seen the little bunny trying to climb up the fragile stairwell, to try and get a taste of the good life upstairs, and sent her world tumbling down into shatters. 

She was sure she had developed some sort of depression, or something that made her feel just as helpless. There was a part of her that felt as if everyone who had doubted her was right; that the only thing she’d ever be good for was to be a dumb carrot-farming bunny. But she knew that she had to prove them all wrong. So she tried again. 

And again. 

And again.

The little grey rabbit tried over and over with success still out of reach, until finally, rather than attempt to jump over the academy’s ivory gates, she decided to use the back door. It wasn’t easy to balance her legal studies and keep up with work on the farm. There were many occasions where she felt it had broken her to pieces, having to pick them up again and march on. 

The hours of going to and from university by train wore heavy on the rabbit, and there were several times where Judy’s siblings, aunts and parents alike commented on how the bunny seemed to have aged years in a matter of months.

All of her hard work seemed to pay off when she made her way up onto the stage in a prideful and boastful stride to accept her diploma. She remembered back to shaking paws with the dean, and other school officials, in front of a crowd of students and a hundred or so adoring bunnies. 

On the long train ride to her new home of the big city, Judy had found solace in the police’s rejection of her. If they couldn’t see the value in having a mammal like her on the force it was their loss. 

So with what little money she had scrapped together from every odd job she could get her paws on; working the farm, running the paper route, stacking grocery shelves, even driving Gideon’s truck for his bakery, she set up her own little practice in a dingy little apartment in the city’s less reputable end. ‘Judy Hopps: Private Detective’

She felt pride as she looked at the sign printed across the frosted glass of the door, and then at the diploma that had gathered a minute layer of dust. Sadness echoed in Judy as she continued looking at the piece of paper that stood now more as a conversation piece than as proof of anything. Judy wondered where all of her hard work had gotten her. 

She had come to the city thirsty for a case; for something where she could really make her mark. Unfortunately for her, she had come to Zootopia in the middle of a drought that the very sun that shone through her shutters reminded her of every day. It seemed that the city was too idealistically perfect, or that mammals still underestimated her. A dumb little bunny. 

Her eyes went from her diploma to the newspaper clippings she had framed all over the wall. All of her clientele thus far had come to her with minor, almost petty issues. ‘What is my partner doing on the weekends’, ‘I want to find information about so and so’. What little publicity the daily rags gave her was the result of a news day moving at snail’s pace rather than her investigations being of any real significance. 

Judy brought her chair closer into the desk, grabbing the half eaten container of Saimese food, picked out a few juicy pieces of satay carrot with her oversized plastic fork, and munched loudly in the still ambiance of the little office. A funk resided over both it and Judy; an atmosphere of stagnation. In this dry spell the rabbit was thirsty: thirsty for that one big nut to crack wide open, thirsty for that case that would skyrocket her from relishing in obscurity to the big league.

At the very moment that Judy was daydreaming about how her career looked like it had no where to go and all the time to get there, someone made a series of knocks on her office door, and the rabbit nearly spilt food over herself. “Who-who is it?” Judy asked, coughing on a piece of food that went down the wrong way.

“I hope I’m not bothering you Miss Hopps.” An old, gentle voice replied.

Gathering her composure, Judy hoped down from the chair and went over to the door, nearly tripping over an electrical cord that snaked across the floor. “No, no Missus Pangolin, you’re not bothering me at all.” 

She opened up the door to reveal an old armadillo who wore thick ruby-red glasses, a lime green sweater vest and ruby red skirt and a long and low-hanging orange bead necklace. She always huddled along with a hunch that only put her inches away from just rolling around. “Is everything all right?”

The armadillo nodded “The only thing I could complain about is that the air conditioner had been doing its…thing again.” By thing, the old mammal was referring to the wheezing noise that it made whenever the temperature in the office was hot enough that the machine actually had to do its job. 

“But that’s not what I wanted to see you about. There’s an Olivia Otterton here who wants to speak with you.” 

Judy looked past Missus Pangolin to see the otter sitting by herself on one of the lobby chairs, her body appearing weary, heavy bags underneath her eyes and a face carrying a weighty look of distress and despair. “She sounded like she was in desperate need of help,” Missus Pangolin continued, “I hope I’m not being too much of an imposition springing a mammal on you like this.”

Judy smiled and put her paw on Missus Pangolin’s shoulder, deeply appreciative of the mammal’s kindliness, and for being on of the too few friends Judy had made in the city. “Please, you know me better than that.” Judy walked out of her office, Missus Pangolin following behind. “I’ll see to her right away.”

“Thank you Judy.” Missus Pangolin waddled back behind her desk as Judy walked over, the bunny catching the attention of the otter.

The lobby was a small, rectangular room that separated Judy’s office and the hallway leading to the hotel hallway. It had light yellow walls and faded oak panelled floors. There were several towering windows over looking the forest of rooftops, clotheslines and balconies on the left side, letting in a near constant stream of sunlight that had bleached and faded the paint on the right wall.

At the very front was a selection of mismatching chairs and stools designed to accommodate all manner of animals who could fit through the rabbit sized door, accompanied by the compulsory selection of gossip tabloids and decade old newspapers. 

In the middle of the room on the left was Missus Pangolin’s desk. It was as equally old as the mammal who sat behind it, with finally chiselled mahogany surfacing from a time of elegance long past and a value probably more than the rooms’ weekly rent. On its desktop was a plain computer, several file holders, a printer and various nick-nacks Missus Pangolin had decorated it with over the years. Just behind her seat on both sides of the room was a row of filing cabinets full of tax records to case files and anything else in-between. 

At the end of the room was the door to Judy’s office, now idly swinging open. 

Judy walked up to the otter, who quickly grabbed her purse in her frail, shaking paws and got off her chair. “Missus Otterton?” Judy spoke softly and with upmost tact. “You wanted to speak to me about something?” 

“Y-yes, I’m so sorry to barge in like this its just I’ve been so worried and the police haven’t been much help at all and I’ve been everywhere else and- 

Judy cautiously held up her paw to interject, Olivia seemed to only spend more time talking and less time breathing with the passing seconds, and Judy was terrified that the otter would hyperventilate and faint. 

“I want to hear about everything you have to say, but, I think we should take this inside my office.”

The otter nodded, wiping away a few tears from her bloodshot eyes. “Yes of course…oh god I’m so sorry to come to you in such a mess.” Olivia spoke with a tired voice as she followed Judy to her office.

“Please don’t worry about that Missus Otterton. I’m sure you’re going through a lot of stress right now, and the only thing I want to do right now is help you though it.” Judy held open her office door for Olivia, quietly mouthing to Missus Pangolin to clear the day’s empty schedule. 

Shutting the door behind them, Judy went over to the coffee machine sitting atop a cabinet in the corner of the room as Olivia sat herself down before Judy’s desk. “Can I get you anything? Coffee?”

“Yes please, I’d appreciate it a lot.” Judy flicked the switch on the side of the machine and begun grounding the beans, filling the office with a pleasant, almost distracting aroma. “Although I’m not sure I should be drinking caffeine –I haven’t been able to get a wink of sleep these past few weeks. 

“I’ll make it a decaf then.” 

The otter nods “I’d like that very much, thank you.” 

A few minutes later, Judy passed the warm cup of coffee to the waiting paws of the otter. She sat down in her own chair, picked up a notepad, her carrot-shaped pen, and got down to business –or as sensitively as she could. “Now, Missus Otterton-

“Please, call me Olivia.” The otter smiled as she took a large drink of coffee, her shakes and jitters subdued for the time being. 

“Okay Olivia, if you can, start from the very beginning for me.” Judy leaned over her desk a little with her pen at the ready, ears and nose twitching inquisitively as the otter began to talk. 

“Its my husband…he’s been missing for…for many weeks.” She sat the mug atop the desk and reached into her purse, pulling out a small photograph. It was a family portrait, depicting Olivia, a male otter hugging her affectionately and their two small children, each with big, happy smiles. Judy felt her heart ache. “His name is Emmitt. W-we have two, beautiful children…I have no idea why he’d just leave.”

“How long has he been missing?” 

“The past twenty days. He went missing on the second of this month.” 

“Have you filed a missing mammals report with the police yet?” Judy urgently asked, hoping that she wasn’t the first mammal the otter had turned to.

“Yes, yes of course.” Olivia responded instantly. “I went to them the morning after he didn’t come home from work. I’ve been on the phone with them every single day since…but they’ve never told me anything beyond the fact that they were doing all they could. 

I mean, I don’t want to doubt that the police are doing all they can, but…” She trailed off, staring into her cup of coffee with swollen, teary eyes. 

Judy felt a need to keep the discussion moving, rather than let the weary mammal dwell on the bleak outlook of her situation. “Can you tell me where he worked?” 

“He’s a flouriest.” A smile grew on Olivia’s face “He loved his job, and everyone he knew loved him too. I can’t imagine anyone meaning him any harm.” 

“You said he went missing on the second. Do you know at what possible time he might have gone missing?” 

“I imagine it would have been when he finished work. He works at his flouriest until four in the afternoon, then staff come on and take the evening and night shifts.” 

“It’s a twenty-four hour business?” 

“Oh yes, Emmitt gets all kinds of clientele looking for his work. He’s one of the best in the city no doubt.” A brief flash of pride beams from the otter, before being overshadowed by her anxiety. 

“Do you know they way he usually takes home?”

“Yes, he’ll head straight from his shop down Galapagos Avenue until he gets to bus station 242. He takes the I40 bus straight to our house at Riverbrook. He’s never been in that door past quarter to four. So by the time eight o’clock came around I was already quite worried.”

“Does he get off the bus to your house at a stop that’s close by?” 

“Yes! The stop is right in front of our yard, I can all ways see him jump off from the living room window.” 

“And what about Galapagos avenue? Is it will lit and heavy with foot traffic by the time he’s heading home?” 

“From what he’s told me not a lot of mammals are walking that way whenever he’s out. But he knows all of the families that live in flats along that street –he says there’s always one of the local mothers or families sitting out on the stoops.”

“So someone should have seen him walking home?” 

“They all know each other, and we now them pretty well too. I don’t believe that if he was walking that way, no one saw him.” 

“Good, that’ll give my contacts and I a place to start.” Judy wrote away on her notepad. She stopped writing and glanced back to Olivia to ask another question, but hesitated when she saw a growing feeling of doubt sprout on the otter’s muzzle, as if she was unsure about all of this. “Olivia…is…everything all right.”

“What do you mean?” 

Judy supposed she could have asked that a bit better. “You seem a bit…well, worried about something. Something other than your husband.” 

The rested her paws in her lap for a few seconds, looking away in thought. “…I’ll be honest with you Miss Hopps. The reason I haven’t come forward to you or…some other private investigator with my worries is because I don’t necessarily have a lot of money at the moment. 

I’ve been waiting on the police for so long, praying with every fibre of my being that they’d turn up with something!” 

She wiped away some tears with a handkerchief, but streams roll over her fur and down her cheeks regardless. “Without Emmitt,” she continued, “I’ve been struggling to make ends meet with the kids and school and the bills!” She stuttered, choking on tears. Judy places a paw on her shoulder as the otter regains her composure. “I…I’m so sorry, but I doubt I’d be able to pay you anything for whatever services you could offer us. 

I…oh goodness I’m so sorry to come in such a state to you.” 

“Olivia,” Judy softly whispered, looking into her eyes with her own, velvet moons. “Olivia, there is one thing I want you to know about me from the get go. 

My only concern right now is getting you and your family though this.

I am helping you regardless of your financial situation. To me, money is an afterthought. I want you to know that I mean this with all of my heart, and that I am going to find your husband, and bring him home to you safely.” Judy pauses for a few seconds, feeling a lump grow in her throat “Or…or I give you the closure that you need.

You understand that I’m here for you and your family right?” The otter had no words, simply nodding with her eyes full of cloudy tears and her voice gagged by emotion. “Good. Please, finish your drink. There are some other things I still want to ask you.”

Judy spent another twenty minutes in the office with Olivia. Only five of those involved questioning. The rest was taken up by Judy asking Olivia questions about the kids, how her and Emmitt met, their family life, their hopes and dreams, and just having a really pleasant talk with the frail little otter whose shaking and jitters had left her almost entirely. 

She followed Judy out the office in much higher spirits, although even Missus Pangolin could still see the dark cloud that lingered behind her tail. She caught up with Judy, who was standing by the door leading outside. “As soon as I find something I’ll be in touch.” 

Judy was a little caught off guard when Olivia went in for a big hug, managing to lift the rabbit off her flat feet for a few seconds despite her considerably smaller size. “Oh god bless you lovely mammal. You have no idea how much you saying yes means to me.” She released Judy from her hug, quickly shoving the family portrait into her paws. “Here, take this. Please bring my Emmitt home. Bring him home to me and my babies.” 

Judy solemnly nodded. “I won’t let you down ma’am.”

“Thank you so much.” Judy closed the door behind Olivia, letting out a sigh as the door clunked shut, her ears drooping low. She massaged her temples as she leaned her back against the beige wooden frame, wondering why she set the otter’s expectations so high, along with her own. She starred in thought at the grotty floor. 

Noticing the rabbit’s demeanour, Missus Pangolin stood up from her office chair and made her way over to the rabbit, bending down slightly to try and meet her gaze. “You look like you’re a little…unsure.”

Judy looks up to meet the armadillo’s eyes with a faint smile. “There are a lot of things to be unsure about in my position, Missus Pangolin.” 

She nodded in response. “True, true. We don’t live in a world where you can be absolutely sure what the weather will be from one day to the next, nor can you be sure that the tram will arrive on time. So that’s why I always leave the house with a brolly and I always show up at the street station for the seven o’clock tram fifteen minutes early.

I may have uncertainty about some things –like whether or not they even delouse this place –but the one thing that I have never held any doubt of, Judy Hopps, is your ability to do your job.

You’ve done it plenty of times before.” She grasped Judy’s paws in her own dull claws, giving the rabbit a warm smile.

“I’ve never had a case this important before. Scandals and affairs are nothing compared to this.” 

“Don’t doubt yourself. You want to make a name for yourself, for this practice, don’t you?” 

Judy slowly nodded “Yes…yes I do.” 

“Well this is your chance!” 

Judy released herself from Missus Pangolin’s grasp, stroking a droopy ear in reflection. 

She knew Missus Pangolin was right; this was her chance to prove herself –to get out of the mediocre cycle that was her life right now. She also knew that the doubt that had compounded itself within her to form a looming storm, not unlike Olivia’s, was only working to sell her short. It wasn’t like she didn’t have the capabilities to actually solve this case; she had a web of connections all over the city, from legal and respected to illicit and disapproved of. 

She’d go to each and everyone to call upon favours, or make some, if need be. 

“I can do this,” Judy thought out loud “I’ve got to do this.” She turned to Missus Pangolin, a resurgent feeling of determination flowing through her. “I think I can do this.” 

“You’ve got to have more trust in this old mammal’s judgement. I presume you’ll want your coat.” She passed the worn jacket with the frayed cuffs and broken zipper to Judy, who slipped it on and returned to her office to grab what else she needed for the day ahead –phone, camera, tape recorder, note book and of course, the sorry excuse for a pea-shooter that was her pistol, holstered on her ankle. 

She hoped that it would stay out of sight and out of mind.

“Where are you going?” Missus Pangolin asked Judy as she opened the door to leave. 

“I’m going to have a friendly chat with one of my contacts, Missus Pangolin.”

“See you later Miss Hopps.” Judy mouthed ‘bye’ and waved as she closed the door behind her, the armadillo getting to the job of sifting through Emmitt’s forebodingly small case file to see if there was anything she could find, while the rabbit set out to hit the gunged footpaths of the city’s mangy back alleys.

The mammal Judy sought out today in the bustling city was someone near impossible to find unless you knew exactly where to look. With no fixed address, a paper trail more scant than a mammoth’s, and a ‘job’ where not arousing attention is the key to a long and successful life, it was a miracle Judy had stumbled across them in the first place. 

The miracle had come in the form of an enraged fiancé, coming to her claiming that he had bought what was advertised a several hundred-dollar Purrsian rug; only to have been sold a skunk-butt rug. Following the trail of enraged scam-victims, including an up and coming mob boss, Judy found the fox, ready to bring him to justice for his crimes. 

However, she realised that he would be of much better use to her as an informant –as a far reaching and surprisingly reliable source of information –and as such she returned to her client empty handed. With nothing more than a dead end. But not before collecting her bottom-dollar fee. 

Still, even when you knew where the fox would be, getting there was no easy task. It was quite difficult for a mammal of Judy’s size to travel the vast distances from point A to point B that the city imposed on her. As such, she had to get a little…creative. 

She took her little car through several back streets until she wound up at a dead end. From here she shimmied down a long drainpipe before sprinting up and over rooftops as quickly as her legs could carry her. 

Judy then had the difficult task of making her way down a twenty-foot wall with only the most rickety and treacherous of rodent stairwells to help her. However, after several minutes of cautious climbing down the wall, step-by-step, inch-by-inch, her feet back safely on the ground, her heart racing a hundred miles. 

After some more walking, she spotted Nick splitting the take from a hard day’s work with his partner in crime, Finnick, in front of a neglected factory shed synonymous with the neglected industrial skeletons of Zootopia’s south side. 

Now where trucks once left in massive convoys carrying tens-of-thousands worth of cargo, stood two mammals making a much smaller quarry, the only vehicle thundering across the cracked tarmac being Finnick’s van as he speed off with his share, grumbling about how Nick’s latest hustle was a humiliation to his species. 

As Nick watched the van speed off down the road she made her way over, calling out “Hard day of hustln’ Wilde?” 

A momentary look of surprise came across Nick’s face as Judy walked up next to him, but his smug bravado quickly took over once more. “Well, well if it isn’t our resident PI. How’s it doing detective flatfoot?” He offered the popsicle that he had been idly chewing on. “ ‘fraid we’ve ran out of stock for today. But hey, for this one I’ll charge you half price.” 

“I’m not here for one of your popsicles Nick.” 

“Neither are you here for pleasantries it seems.” 

“We don’t have a working relationship where pleasantries are required.” 

Nick placed his paw on his chest in mock shock. “Oh, and I thought I was your special fox!”

She lightly slugged him in the arm. “We don’t need to get into that. Come on Nick, you know why I’m here.”

He chuckled “I know, I know. 

Nice to see that you’re not that naïve little bunny anymore. 

Walk with me carrots.” He gestured for her to follow, which the bunny did, albeit she made sure to walk slightly ahead of the fox. 

“You have somewhere to be?” 

“No, not really. I just didn’t want to discuss business here.” 

Judy looked around, her ears swivelling and surveying her surroundings with a heightened alertness. They didn’t talk to each other for a while, walking side by side for some time until they came to a much busier pathway, mammals passed forth and back in an endless stream that offered some measure of seclusion. 

“So Miss Hopps, how may Nick Wilde be of service to you?” 

“I need some information on a mammal.” She passed Nick the family portrait “You know everyone right?” 

“Everyone there is to know.” 

“Is he someone to know?” 

“He is now. What’s the run down of his little situation?” 

“He’s been missing for over two weeks. His wife’s employed me to find him –or something.” 

“What’s the pay?” 

“At the moment, nothing.”

Nick stopped in his tracks, Judy turning around in front of him, arms folded over her chest and her foot tapping subconsciously away at the pavement. “Judy, Judy, Judy. I’m not a mammal who can provide you with the services you need without my fair share of the pie.” He bends down, eye to eye with Judy. “I’ll ask again; what’s my pay?” 

“I’m serious Nick. I’m doing this out of charity. You know, good will.” 

“Charity and good will might have gotten you somewhere back in your carrot-choked Podunk of Bunny Burrow, but here, Judy, it gets you no where. 

You of all mammals should know that.” 

“It might get me somewhere this time.” Judy resiliently retorted, starring Nick dead in the eye, but a submissive lump had formed itself in her throat. She swallowed it, as Nick stood upright. She hoped he hadn’t noticed. 

“Might is a dangerous word in our world Judy.” Nick looked at a passing car, honking away at the slowly crawling traffic that wound up the wiggly road over the hill. Judy did not. He looked back to her “When I get you the information that you want, I need to feed mouths to do so. You can’t expect me to go to hungry maws empty pawed.” 

“I can’t get you the money now, but I can get it later.” 

“Later won’t do Judy. Its always the middle-mammal that cops it when a deal goes south.” 

“The deal won’t go south.” She snatched the picture back off of Nick and held it up to his face, pointing at Olivia and Emmitt. “I promise you that with just as much conviction as when I promised this family that I would reunite them with their father!” Nick didn’t look convinced.

“We should have a trust in one another! It’s why I didn’t hand you over to the dozens of mammals who wanted your pelt for those scams you pulled over their stupid eyes. Not just because you’ve been of good use to me, but also because I trust you to be honest with me, and to help me whenever I need it! I’ve done just the same for you over the years!” 

She quietened down her emotions and regained her composure. Still a little bit naïve, she admitted to herself. “Get me the information I need Nick. I want the word on the street, in the gutters and where I can’t go without risking me neck. I’ll get you something in return.” 

“And what can you possibly have to offer me?” 

“Well, I know that jumbo pops have been getting quite expensive recently.” Judy replied sharply, smiling as she noticed Nick ear’s perk. “And that Mister Big has been getting a little irked about you conducting your whole ‘business’ on his turf. Views it as quite disrespectful I hear.” Nick’s ears splayed and an alarmed expression instantly over took his muzzle. 

If there was one thing you didn’t want Mister Big to think you as, it was disrespectful.

“Now,” Judy continued “If you were to get me information on that missing otter I can get you in touch with a confectionary supplier based at Beach Promenade who can sell you popsicle syrup by the gallon for cheap. Do yourself a favour and cut out the middle trunk. It’ll give you a huge profit for you and your diaper-wearing partner. Plus I’ll get Mister Big off your back to sweeten the deal.”

Nick raised an eyebrow, suspicious of the little bunny’s claims. “How exactly are you going to be able to do this?” 

“You have your connections, I have mine. Let’s leave it at that slick.” 

Nick stood there for a second, seeming to contemplate what to ask next. “How…can I trust you to keep good on your word? You understand the risks I go through with these things?” 

“I do understand Nick. And you can trust me because I’ve never made a promise I couldn’t keep or a deal I haven’t been able to honour. I have no plans to start today.”

Nick looked away for a few seconds, again to the road. This time Judy followed. There was very little traffic. “I’ll see what I can dig up. I’m not promising much.” 

“I don’t need much Nick.” She began to walk away, the deal done. “I’ll keep good on my promise.” 

“Can you promise me another thing carrots?” She turned to look at Nick, chewing slowly on his bare popsicle stick. “Don’t get yourself killed.” She acknowledged Nick’s concern, not with words or a smile or a wave, but with a very subtle nod before turning away and joining the flow of mammals. 

As he stood there, the fox felt very alone indeed. 

Judy quickly turned the corner, immediately putting her back to the building and wheezing, grasping her chest as she took in huge breaths of air. The adrenaline that pumped through her veins was palpable, and she couldn’t help but feel a little giggly about the challenge that lay ahead. Finally, there was a chance to prove herself, and come rain or shine, she was going to take it.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey Guys, 
> 
> So in the summary I stated that I might be continuing on with this story. This is becuase unfortunately real life sort of got in my way this past week and a half, and as such I really couldn't write a fully fleshed out story for tt (I'm willing to admit I might have gotten carried away with this one). As such, what I've got so far sort of...cuts off I guess. 
> 
> Its something I feel like I should address, and as such, I'm planning on writing a few subsequent chapters and make it into a whole story.


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